


Intrusive Thoughts

by AlynnaStrong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Soulmates, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: A Soulmate AU featuring the reluctant pair of Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth fated to share their deepest thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brienne and Jaime are roughly the same age in this fic (needed for the mechanic not to be icky). This leads to a condensation of Jaime’s timeline that ought to interfere with canon, but I’m going to pretend like it doesn’t. Assume things are mostly the same except Jaime is younger, and he and Cersei only have one (young) child.

The existence of soulmates is hotly debated within certain chambers of the Citadel. Some maesters argue that the hundreds of anecdotes gathered throughout the years provide strong evidence of a mental link between select pairs of individuals before they ever meet. According to these reports, soulmates can hear the thoughts of their bondmate at times of extreme stress or intense emotion. Others contend that such stories are coincidences mixed with the fallibility of memory. After all, how could one really verify what another person was thinking, much less exactly when they thought it?

Most non-maester citizens do profess at least some belief in soulmates. It’s a romantic notion, and even those who have never heard a thought they couldn’t explain away liked to fantasize that there is someone out there whom the gods had judged perfect for them. Certainly the folk tales and fables use them regularly as an interesting complication for the narrative. In fact, if there is one consistent lesson in both the tales and real life, it is that a person’s soulmate is never predictable. There are no soulmate quests for the love of the girl next door or the boy bound to the heroine by betrothal since age two. The gods seem to use the soulmate system when the parties at hand need a bit of a nudge.

 

“ _BROTHER!”_

Jaime heard the voice clear as day though he was alone in the tower study. He’d been practicing his letters, going over and over the passage until he had it memorized and could fool his tutor into thinking he was reading it from the page, ever-shifting letters be damned.

He sprinted down to Cersei’s room, frantic to relieve her of whatever was causing her such pain. The shout contained so much undiluted agony that any delay would be pure cruelty.

He grew puzzled when he saw her sitting at her usual chair underneath the window, calmly embroidering a lion onto the bodice of her new dress. Since they’d passed their eighth nameday, she was now trusted to sew the family sigil onto her own clothes.

“Are you alright, Cersei?” he asked.

She looked up in annoyance. “I am, but you’d better not cause me to miss a stitch. If my lion turns out cross-eyed, I’m changing this dress into a doublet, and you’re going to wear it.”

“I heard… you weren’t calling for me?”

“No. Maybe it was the shrimp,” she said, referencing her hated non-twin brother.

It hadn’t sounded like Tyrion. The toddler had a high, lisping voice and would surely have been unable to produce such a loud sound. Still, Jaime checked on him to make sure. His nursemaid said he’d been peaceful all day, but was always ready for a game of knights and bandits with his favorite brother. The two boys played, and the incident slipped mostly from Jaime’s memory.

Far away on the island of Tarth, the faithful master at arms, Ser Goodwin, restrained young Brienne from rushing to the men carrying her limp older brother out of the sea. She craned her neck to watch as they used every method available to make the Lord’s heir breathe again, to no result. Her brother was gone.

 

“ _I love you,”_   Brienne heard in her mind, though no one had spoken it. Certainly not Septa Roelle who waited impatiently for her student to complete her recitation.

Heraldry was usually one of her better subjects. Brienne found it far more useful than sewing, dancing, or scripture. At the moment, however, she was feeling things. Feelings she’d been informed that high-born ladies of three and ten were not meant to indulge.

“It’s hot in here, Septa. I can’t concentrate. Could we move the lesson outside so we can sit in the breeze?” She welcomed the opportunity to walk around and stretch her legs (and other parts).

“We’ll do no such thing,” Septa Roelle said. She found it rather brisk, in fact, and had been thinking of closing the shutters. “Now finish.”

Fortunately, Jaime finished around that time and lay sweaty and sated in his sister’s arms. Brienne’s focus may not have been at her best, but she did manage to get through the rest of the day’s studies without a report of laziness to her father.

 

“ _The little shits aren’t worth your tears,”_   Jaime heard and felt an accompanying wave of love that nearly made him swoon. He mastered himself and stood at attention. Any squire who fainted could kiss his hopes of knighthood good-bye.

Jaime had listened to enough love songs and stories by now that he understood what these strange, wandering thoughts meant: he had a soulmate. He couldn’t get his heart fully behind the idea, however, because whoever she was, she wasn’t Cersei. It seemed impossible that someone could be more perfect for him than his twin, his other half.

He asked Cersei what she’d been thinking whenever he experienced one of these episodes, and she never let on that she could be the sender. Unless she was playing some long con-game with him, his true soulmate was another woman. He believed he’d keep this new glimpse into her mind to himself. Cersei seemed to be growing suspicious about the odd questions, and he didn’t want to make her jealous. Also, for the first time, the thought reflected someone he might enjoy meeting. She’s noble and confident in herself; she knows she’s better than the others. She sounded a bit like him.

Brienne rested her chin on Renly’s strong shoulder for just a touch. How had he known she needed his words so badly? Every part of her soul felt battered. The teasing had been ruthless today, tearing down all her defenses before the ball even began. Lord Renly lifted her up with his kindness. He was the first man outside her family to show he could look beyond her appearance. Given the opportunity, she’d follow him anywhere.

 

“ _Arise, Ser, a knight of the realm.”_

Brienne’s chest swelled with reflected pride. She had a soulmate, and he was a knight! Though she could never be knighted herself, it warmed her heart to know she was paired with someone dedicated to upholding the noble virtues. The gods must have found their souls had a pleasing symmetry. If he was close to her in age, as these things usually went, he’d be quite young to have already achieved knighthood. Perhaps that meant he was an especially talented fighter. She wondered if Father would take her to a few tournaments to see if she could spot him. She felt sure she’d know her soulmate if she ever saw him.

She had not yet mentioned her soulmate suspicions to her father or septa. After the humiliating incident of Ser Connington breaking their betrothal at first sight of her, she dared not spout off about romantic notions of fated love. Her soulmate would stay her secret. Now though, she would never pass another knight without taking a hopeful peek at his face looking for a startled recognition.

Jaime knelt in the mud, his mind quiet for once. This was surely the day of his life most likely to go down in song and legend. Acting boldly and fighting beyond the ability of any other squire, he had saved the life of his knight, Ser Crakehall. They then fought together with members of the Kingsguard to end the threat of the Kingswood Brotherhood. The Sword of the Morning himself, Ser Arthur Dayne, knighted Jaime for his valor. He felt his heart would burst with joy. He desired nothing more than to be Ser Dayne’s true disciple, a knight so pure that his example would light the way for others to follow the righteous path. If only more knights lived up to their oaths, the Kingdoms would be a much kinder, safer, and more harmonious place.

 

“ _I will never accept chastisement from you!”_

It wasn’t so much the words that made Jaime stand up straighter while guarding the door of the small chamber meeting, but the emotions behind them. His soulmate was apparently in the middle of a fight. He felt the glorious rush of imminent victory speed up his pulse. The battle seemed very physical, even brutal. This was not a woman poisoning a scheming uncle or slipping a stiletto between the ribs of an unfaithful lover as he slept. She was more like the sort of woman who would bash someone’s head in with a rock.

He paused for a moment in his contemplation. Was his soulmate definitely a woman? Otherwise would not accord well with his tastes, to the best of his knowledge. There were a few tales of same gender soulmates, but one of them always swapped sexes by the end of the story, generally as a reward from the gods. That didn’t happen in real life. (The swapping; he was enough of a man of the world to know the attraction happened quite frequently).

He glanced down at his white armor. It was all academic anyway. Woman or man, his soulmate was now irrelevant. He was bound to the Kingsguard for life and thus sworn never to marry. He may not be able to remain entirely chaste with his sister at court and yearning for companionship, but he should endeavor not to break any major vows.

Brienne stood over the bludgeoned form of the last gentleman with whom her father would arrange a betrothal. Ser Wagstaff was a traditional man who had insisted that Brienne must cease her training at arms once they married and accept his chastisement like a proper wife. She replied that she would do so only if he could defeat her in a fight. He tried, and failed, thus ending Lord Tarth’s hopes that his daughter would ever marry.

 

The week after Robert’s Rebellion concluded, when his forces stormed King’s Landing and the treacherous Kingsguard Jaime Lannister betrayed his most sacred vows and slew King Aerys II, Brienne spent most of her days in bed. It was as if a great psychic scream crowded out everything else in her mind. She couldn’t hold a conversation and barely had the wits to eat.

Her father feared for her sanity, though he did not know what could have caused her mind to break. He had not attempted any further engagements since Ser Wagstaff went down to defeat in their training yard. Septa Roelle wondered if the maiden might be possessed by some unholy spirit. Despite trying her hardest, she’d never been able to make her act like a proper lady. She read _The Seven Pointed Star_ at her day and night, praying she’d come back to herself.

Finally, Brienne emerged from her stupor, more somber than before. She redoubled her training in the yard, flatly ignoring Septa Roelle when called for more conventional lessons. When Robert’s brothers rose against the chaos he was causing in the Kingdoms, she announced to her father that she would be traveling to the mainland to rally to Renly’s banners. Septa Roelle questioned Lord Tarth for writing Brienne a letter of support. He merely shrugged. “We had seventeen years to mold her into our standard of a lady. Now we must see what she makes of herself.”

Jaime went through the motions as the regimes changed in King’s Landing. He was far away inside his own mind when his sister married King Robert and he was pardoned and reinstated in the Kingsguard. His father, the new Hand of the King, looked on proudly, thinking Jaime had finally grown to treat his post with the maturity it deserved. He didn’t suspect that the best parts of his son were hidden beneath layers of trauma.

 

_“Three cheers for the Blue!”_

Jaime didn’t understand this one. The overwhelming joy, the satisfying feeling of a victorious battle, all that was familiar. The strange imagery of rainbows and the almost ceremonial stance were unusual. Was his soulmate now a septa, standing before the banners of the gods? Poor dear. But what to make of the battle? The faith was barred from maintaining its own force of knights.

Truth be told, Jaime was glad to sense the connection again. He hadn’t felt much of anything for quite some time. Even if he couldn’t comprehend what she (?... pretty sure she) was experiencing, it was nice to know someone in any way close to him was happy. Cersei was not. Joffrey’s birth pleased Robert at first, but when he could see little Baratheon features in the boy, he became petulant. Cersei sported bruises and marks of restraint which Jaime was prevented by custom from noticing. Robert also plainly had no concept of how to run a kingdom, and much of it was falling to discord. Both his brothers now raised armies to forcibly relieve him of the throne.

Jaime’s soulmate seemed to be a misfit; that’s all he could say for sure. She (right? She) was persistently involved in battles, taking pleasure in demonstrating her skill. It was a surprisingly reassuring sentiment. He also felt most alive when he fought; in every other way he found himself hopelessly flawed. If his soulmate also had a bit of a crack in her soul, at least he wouldn’t be alone in his failure to live up to his ideals.

Brienne glowed in the aftermath of the melee triumph and especially the approval from (soon to be) King Renly. Surely nothing could ever equal the satisfaction of seeing the cloak of the Rainbow guard stream from her back. She heard the murmurs of discontent all around, of course, and the mocking calls naming her ‘Beauty.’ She didn’t allow it to dim her joy this time. As he’d once told her, the little shits aren’t worth it.

 

Lady Stark summoned Brienne to attend her for a special mission. Catelyn had been nothing but kind to her, kindness Brienne desperately needed. She’d seen her king killed before her eyes and then found herself accused of the crime. Lady Stark had helped her escape from King Renly’s tent and taken her into service, despite this abject failure.

Brienne would do anything for Lady Stark, even though she suspected that her secrecy meant she planned to go against the wishes of her son, King in the North Robb Stark. Well, she served Lady Stark, not Robb.

 _Is that a woman?_   Brienne heard the shocked thought pass across her mind a split-second before the words traveled through the air. She turned toward the haughty, mocking voice coming incongruously from a filthy figure chained in a pen of mud and shit.

She needed a moment to recognize him. _The Kingslayer!_

His head snapped in her direction as if he’d heard her speak. Their eyes met. Clear blue locked with cat-green as the horror of what their shared thoughts signified slowly dawned on them.

“ _NO!”_   they both clearly heard the other shout inside their head, though their mouths made no sound.

 


	2. Chapter 2

How could his soulmate be this ugly beast of a woman? She had none of the elegance, taste, and beauty of Cersei, the only woman he’d ever loved. It had to be a mistake.

How could her soulmate be the most disloyal knight in the Seven Kingdoms? She always tried to live by the most strident codes of honor. It had to be a mistake.

Brienne and Jaime stared at one another, shock and horror written plainly on both their faces. Catelyn looked from one to the other in confusion, finally asking, “Brienne?”

“He’s-” she croaked.

The cosmic nature of the joke finally hit home with Jaime. He fell back into the mud of his prison pen laughing. “Oh Lady Stark, haven’t you seen the face of a woman meeting her true love before?”

“Has he dishonored you, Child?” Catelyn asked, pitching her voice low to protect Brienne’s reputation. She could think of no other reason for the young woman’s cheeks to be flaming red and her eyes so full of shame.

“N-no, Lady Stark. We’ve never met before. It was just a shock to see the Kingslayer in person. I did admire him – as a swordsman – until he showed his true colors.” Brienne couldn’t bear to reveal the awful truth. She could all too easily imagine Lady Stark’s lip curling at her in disgust. As was proper. As any right-thinking person’s would.

Catelyn nodded. Due to her sworn sword’s size and serious countenance, she often forgot about her youth. It appeared that Lord Renly was not the only handsome nobleman to catch Brienne's eye. Of course, most maidens entertained a fantasy or two before they married. It was not necessarily a problem. “I suppose he thinks very highly of his appearance. Just remember, the choicest looking flowers oft have bees lurking within.”

“Do not fear, Lady Stark. I am well versed in not being swayed by outer appearances. I will not waver from my duty.” Brienne’s heart broke at her lady’s desperation to save her daughters and at their brother’s thoughtless disregard of their safety. She truly seemed to be their last chance. She vowed that the faith Lady Stark invested in her would not be in vain. 

“Good,” Catelyn said. She explained her plan of exchanging Jaime for her two daughters. All throughout, Brienne and Jaime sniped at each other, gradually growing more and more annoyed as the soul bond reiterated their emotions. It seemed to transmit better now that they were so close, a circumstance that did nothing to dampen the annoyance.

In the still of night, Brienne snuck out of camp, leading Jaime on a chain. Once they’d settled into a rowboat to travel down the Trident towards King's Landing, Jaime asked with a smirk, “So, how was your day? Learn anything interesting?”

“I think this will go easier we don’t speak.”

“Mmm,” Jaime said. He gripped the sides of the boat, spent a few moments riling himself up, then sent of blast of pure rage towards Brienne. He blinked innocently as she shot him a deep frown.

“Don’t do that again.”

“You can’t think I’m happy about it either, but we have to discuss it. Why didn’t you tell Lady Stark?”

“I was too ashamed, of course. She would never trust me again if she thought I was anything like you.”

“Not to belabor the issue, but if you’re withholding important information from her, maybe she shouldn’t trust you.”

“No! No, because I’m going to carry out her commission,” Brienne said trying to convince herself he didn’t have a point. “Someone else might not have done it properly or even attempted it at all. If you cooperate, we’ll get you to King’s Landing in one piece, and I’ll fetch my lady’s daughters back to her. Whatever this… thing is between us doesn’t need to matter.”

“Sure. Soul bond forged by the gods. Probably irrelevant.”

Brienne stewed in that as she rowed until morning.

 

They stopped for food and rest at sunrise. Brienne tied up the boat and led Jaime deep into the woods before setting up camp, not wanting to be spotted by scouts from any of the various armies currently traveling the countryside.

Despite not having a decent meal in months, Jaime found himself more hungry for conversation with his mysterious bondmate than food. “You’re a terrible cook. That’s something we have in common. I wonder what else. Do you have siblings? A lover?”

“Neither. Certainly not both in one.” She shot him a look of revulsion.

“Ah. So I see the thought sharing doesn’t have any respect for decorum.”

“If I could have shut it off at those times, I would have.” She tried to keep up the appearance of anger, but honestly the memories of trying to ride out an orgasm while reciting the words of various houses were more amusing than embarrassing at this point. _You could have at least switched up the times of day. My septa thought I enjoyed heraldry a little too much._

“Heh. I wasn’t even sure you were a woman until I saw you.” And even then, he’d needed a second look. “I do like how much you revel in fighting, though. It stirs you deep inside, just like me. Give me your other sword and let’s see how we match up. It will pass the time.”

“You must take me for an idiot. Besides, if you kill your soulmate, you die yourself.”

“The tales aren’t entirely in agreement on that. Thought I might try my luck.”

“No, you were planning to knock me out and leave me here hobbled. You thought your scheme so clever that you couldn’t keep from getting excited about it. You’ll have a better chance of a safe arrival if, instead of fighting me, you allow me to do my duty.”

“Well, damn it; guess I’ll have to submit to your protection.” Jaime took a bite of his dinner, reclined against a tree, and grinned up at her.

 _Is he… trying to flirt now?_ Brienne asked herself, bemused.

 _Am I flirting?_ Jaime wondered. He hadn't meant to, but she was, in her way, strangely compelling. His mind kept drifting back to her. He suspected she was enduring the same struggle, swimming against his current.

Brienne harrumphed and asked, “What do you think caused it?”

“It’s a punishment, obviously.”

She snarked, “What is it you think I did to deserve this?”

“Oh, my fair lady, I’m sure the fault was none of your own. I'm the one being punished.”

“The first time I remember it happening, we were fairly young. I don’t think either of us could have earned such punishment yet,” she said more seriously.

“Another life, perhaps,” Jaime shrugged. In his opinion, the cause didn’t matter. Finding a way to navigate the rest of his life tied to... her was going to be the trickier part.

“It just seems so brutally unfair. I try so hard.” Having a bond with the Kingslayer felt like a millstone around her neck, when she'd already started at a huge disadvantage.

“Believe it or not, so do I.”

“You’re a Kingsguard who killed a king. Now his successor is dead as well.”

“Robert is no fault of mine. If your lady hadn’t had me penned up for the better part of a year, I may have been able to do something about it.”

“A boy of only two namedays is now our king. Your father rules in his name.” She would say nothing of how little King Joffrey was said to resemble his father, but Jaime could probably feel her thinking it.

“I’m sure my sister tries to have a hand in every decision as well. My father is probably counting the days until Joffrey comes of age and he can send her away to Casterly Rock.”

“My point is, killing Aerys certainly seems to have worked out well for the Lannisters.”

Jaime felt his anger build and could see from her annoyed glance that she did as well. It was the same old story that smallfolk and nobles alike told themselves. The power hungry Lannister family orchestrated a coup on good King Aerys leading to the tragic sacking of King’s Landing where hundreds died, and the realm has been unstable ever since. If only they knew the truth…. Well, she was his soulmate. If anyone could listen with a chance of believing him, it was her.

“Do you remember Aerys’ death?” he asked. “How you felt afterwards, I mean.”

“Not really. My father said I was so depressed I took to bed and barely ate.”

“Why do you think that was?” Jaime growled, his piercing green eyes capturing hers and not letting go.

“You were… remorseful?” It had to be the correct answer, but she was utterly perplexed. Though in retrospect it made sense; her strong reaction to Aerys death had seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Remorseful. That’s one way to put it. Another is that I was so out of my mind with grief I didn’t care if I lived or died. I’d felt that way ever since Aerys gave his final command to burn the entire city with wildfire. The pyromancers would have done it. No one but the Kingsguard was privy to the knowledge of how many caches of the stuff he'd hidden around the city. By the time they started going off, it would have been too late. The city and a half million people would have joined their king in his fiery ‘fuck you, Robert.’ How many innocent lives are needed to be saved to balance out the life of a king?”

It was the truth. Even if they hadn’t been linked, Brienne would have been convinced. With the bond she could make no pretense of denial. Jaime continued to pin her with his gaze even as she her eyes softened and filled with tears.

To Jaime she suddenly looked nothing at all like a beast. Her soothing blue eyes were the kindest he’d ever seen. The acceptance and pure belief he felt meant more to him than anything else in this world or beyond. He’d never even had the courage to tell Cersei the whole story. She would have believed him, but not understood why breaking his most sacred oath caused him such agony. Soulmates. It was starting to make sense.

“Why doesn’t anyone else know?” she asked.

“You weren’t exactly eager to believe otherwise. The runaway ambition of the Lannisters makes a more pleasing story than to accept that the king was mad, had been growing worse for years, and it ran in the family. Prince Rhaegar was a pleasant enough fellow at the time, but his arrogance in stealing Robert’s betrothed shows that he’d fare no better. He probably would have…” Jaime trailed off out of habit from keeping the king’s secrets. Brienne heard the thought complete, _… been yelling at the walls too within ten years._

“It’s harder than it sounds to keep your vows,” she admitted, “but you made the right choice.” She had been naïve to believe all the evil she’d heard about him, though it wasn't entirely her fault. If only she could have personally understood all the difficult choices that come with the life of a knight.

“It’s impossible,” he sighed. “You just do the best you can for the greatest number of people.”

Brienne unbuckled her second sword from around her waist and handed it to Jaime. “I’d better not wake up a cripple. If you leave me here alone, I will dedicate the rest of my life to hunting you down and my afterlife to haunting you, count on it.”

“I can tell you’re no liar, my lady. Rest and I’ll watch over you. No harm will come.”

Brienne spread out a blanket, weary in mind and body. She would like to think that the rowing was the worst part, but she suspected the amount of truth she’d taken in today was the real culprit. She needed to rest and clear her mind. A few hours sleep would give her a fresh perspective.

 _I like her,_ Jaime thought fondly. Brienne pretended she hadn’t heard. Jaime pretended not to see her slight smile.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jaime heard loud singing from the road beyond the tree line. He peeked through the brush expecting to see a group of traveling mummers or minstrels. Instead, he saw Mummers all right, but not the harmless sort. These were the ruthless mercenaries that certain lords (including his father) employed to seed chaos in the countryside. He had no doubt that they would treat his capture as a plum prize for their present lord. Jaime faded back into the forest.

He woke Brienne and held a finger to her lips, trying to impress on her the importance of silence. She felt his urgency through their bond and sat up, giving him a questioning look as she donned her armor and prepared to break camp.

“Mercenary company on the road, about a dozen men,” Jaime whispered. “Headed east like us. We should let them pass by before working our way back to the river.”

Brienne nodded, but just then they heard a woman’s scream from the direction of the road. Brienne drew her sword reflexively and took a step toward the sound.

“No! There are too many of them,” Jaime rasped.

A man yelled, “Get your hands off of her!” His protest sounded choked at the end.

“Quiet, you, or it’ll be your turn next,” a mocking voice broke in.

Brienne started into the trees heedless of Jaime’s warning.

“You have a duty,” Jaime protested, thinking of their promise to Lady Stark.

“So do you, _Ser_ Jaime,” Brienne said and took off at a run.

 _Gods damn the noble wench,_ Brienne heard, but she also heard Jaime running after her.

They burst through the trees in a surprise attack. Brienne wounded two and killed one (a man wearing jester’s motley for some unfathomable reason) before they knew what hit them. Jaime fought more strategically, locating the one who seemed to be in command and clasping his sword to his throat from behind. The man's long, goat-like beard bobbed as he tried to assess the peril. Jaime knew this was the crucial moment. If the Mummers regrouped and counterattacked, the two of them had no chance. However, their commander might be willing to call a retreat to save his own life.

“Tell them to stand down,” Jaime ordered. “You have until the count of three before I carve open your throat and move on to your second in command.” Jaime had no idea who that might be, but he needed to strike before the man noticed that he wore no armor. "One..."

“L-let ‘em go,” the commanded stuttered. Brienne looked almost annoyed when her opponent (a fat Dothraki of all things) dipped his arakh. Others stepped away from the traveling merchant and his wife who ran back to their cart for refuge. Both seemed unharmed, if awed dumb by the turn of events.

Jaime pushed the commander to the ground. He and Brienne made a wall between the mercenaries and the merchants.

“Now you head back west, and we’ll carry on east. There’s no reason for more unpleasantness over a bunch of,” Jaime glanced into the merchant’s wagon, “turnips.” He’d hoped for something more satisfying, but supposed knights errant can’t be choosers.

The men retreated down the road, grumbling darkly.

“They’ll be back. They’ll try and set an ambush for us,” Brienne said unnecessarily.

Jaime shot her a sharp thought without actually needing to look at her. It’d been her idea!

“Ser and… Lady,” the merchant said, “we were heading for the Inn at the Crossroads. We’d be pleased to have your company on the road, and mayhap those bandits wouldn’t follow to such a busy place.”

Jaime agreed to escort them. The inn wasn’t too far out of the way to King’s Landing, and after his long captivity, a room at an honest inn sounded like one of the higher heavens right now.

 

Traveling at the head of the short caravan consisting of themselves and the merchants in their cart, Brienne and Jaime looked far more like comrades at arms than a jailer and her prisoner. He wore her spare sword rather than chains and was even less reluctant to tease her, if that can be believed. They relived as many of their shared experiences as they could remember, laughing at the misunderstandings more often than not. The merchants didn’t know what to make of the strange pair – the beautiful man in rough clothes and the ugly woman in armor – but agreed they were a blessing from the gods no matter their appearance.

Dour as she’d been at the beginning, Jaime decided that he enjoyed Brienne's company now. While her cleverness remained in doubt – she had nearly gotten them killed with her uptight interpretation of a knight’s duty – he felt more himself around her. The weight of his family legacy and his past faded away while they were together. He would call them fast friends if she was a man. He wasn’t sure exactly how she fit in as a woman, though he was willing to give the obvious a try.

“The Inn at the Crossroads is on the horizon. Would you like to get a room together and further explore what our bond means?” he asked. He put a hand alongside her cheek. The thought of kissing those full, chapped lips stirred a pleasant, excited feeling within him. She would probably be clumsy with inexperience, and he dared say that his stamina had taken a hit, but still…

“Y-no,” she responded, catching the drift of his thoughts. “Rooms would be nice, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to become intimate.”

“If you’re worried about-”

“I’m worried about several aspects of it, but first and foremost is keeping my head on my shoulders.”

Jaime pulled back in confusion.

“Your father will have me killed if he finds out about what we are to each other, especially if we’ve already gotten… closer.”

 _My sister more than my father, probably,_ Jaime considered. He tried to cut the thought off, but could tell from the quirk of Brienne’s lip that she’d gotten the gist.

“Your father wants you out of the Kingsguard, right? What better opportunity than to say the gods have decreed this, and it must not be defied. Then as soon as you’re out, something happens to me and you’re the most eligible bachelor in Westeros once again. There are several marriageable girls out there who come with much bigger castles that Evenfall Hall.”

“N-no,” Jaime protested. His idealistic loyalty to his family fought a brief battle against her pragmatic appraisal of the situation. “Well, it’s not flatly impossible,” he allowed. “Perhaps it is too much of a risk to take right at the start. We can see how grateful my father is feeling after your return me to King’s Landing.”

As soon as they entered the Inn at the Crossroads, they could tell that a strange mood hung in the air. The bard played thrice-damned “The Rains of Castamere,” a song Jaime could live a full life without ever hearing again. He wondered how they had seen him coming – bards often assumed all Lannisters considering that song flattering – but soon realized that the singer was feeding off the general sense of Lannister triumph. He sensed that the scheming mind of Lord Tywin had scored another victory of dubious morality.

By the time the barmaid could bring them dinner, Brienne had lost her appetite. She absorbed enough details about the wedding at the Twins from the surrounding conversation to understand that her lady was dead. Lady Stark died betrayed by her supposed ally, after seeing her eldest son slain before her eyes. She did not live to see his body desecrated nor hers tossed carelessly into the water. Brienne could imagine it all too vividly, though. It felt like losing her mother all over again. She slumped in her seat, a wave of hopelessness pinning her down.

Jaime sat close to her on the bench, gently placing his arm across her shoulder. “Lady Stark has a sister, Lysa Arryn, the Lady of the Vale. Delivering the girls to her would come closest to fulfilling Lady Stark’s wishes now, I think.”

“I suppose,” she muttered numbly. “Did you have any inkling of this plot?” she asked, her pain raw.

“No, I’d been away too long. My father’s mark is all over this, though. You were right; he will do anything to win, to impose his will. I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. That’s the best reason for you to travel to the Vale. You won’t be under his eye. I would find that a comfort.”

Brienne grabbed Jaime's hand and squeezed hard. “I’d rather not be alone tonight. Do you think you can behave yourself if we share one room?”

“I’d say so. I’m feeling a lot less amorous than I was before we came in.”

“Me too,” she said, then blushed at what she had just confessed.

 

A retinue of Lannister bannermen and free-riders accompanied Jaime and Brienne on the journey from the Inn at the Crossroads to King’s Landing. Everyone but the guests of honor remained in high spirits about the collapse of the Northern army. Now that they no longer posed a threat, the Crown forces could fall back to more familiar lands to defend the king against the remaining Baratheon usurper.

Jaime received a warm welcome from his sister – too warm by half, in Brienne’s opinion. His father greeted him, she’d say cordially, but was distressed to learn he’d have to give up Sansa Stark if he wanted to properly pay his debt. He could be of no help with Arya Stark, who’d been missing since Ned Stark’s execution. Tywin had been planning to marry Sansa to Tyrion, but he supposed having Jaime back was worth the sacrifice of a claim to the North. Narrowly, but worth it.

Brienne kept a low profile during her time in King’s Landing. The Lannisters, apart from Jaime, seemed happy to overlook her as she did not fit into their conception of how the world should work. Young King Joffrey’s eyes widened on seeing her, but he was hustled away to his bath before she could even get her curtsy squared away.

After a week in King’s Landing, Brienne was starting to fear that the Lannisters had no plans to release Sansa. Jaime visited her when he could, but Tywin kept him quite busy. He seemed to avoid Cersei as well, which was a relief. Brienne really didn’t need any reminders about what the inside of the queen’s vagina felt like if she was going to maintain a neutral countenance around her.

Finally, Jaime summoned Brienne to his chambers. She arrived a bit nervous, fearing he was ready to proclaim her a mistake, but he was all smiles.

“They say good things happen in threes. Well, I have three gifts for you today. First, we have at last received a letter from the Vale inviting Sansa to stay with her aunt. Between you and me, it took a bit longer than I expected – there's nothing worse than family drama – but it gave me time to have this crafted.”

He unveiled a magnificent suit of blue armor that Brienne knew would fit her perfectly.

“What do you think? Somehow I know your measurements as well as my own. Nice trick, eh?”

“Thank you, sincerely. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful, Ser Jaime.”

“Hold that assessment. You haven’t seen the finale yet.” He reverently drew forth a sword-shaped bundle and unwrapped it to reveal a sword of unparalleled quality.

“Valyrian steel?” she asked, stunned.

“My father had two swords forged after melting down the Stark greatsword, Ice. One for me and the other for his grandson, King Joffrey. I would count it an honor if you would take mine along to protect you while you escort Lady Sansa to the Vale. In this way, allow it to represent me fulfilling my vow. You can know that my heart is with you, even if I must stay in King’s Landing for the time.”

“Jaime, it’s priceless. I can’t-” she shook her head.

“Consider it my way of keeping us together. The swords came from a single source. I don’t believe they will want to be apart forever. Just for now.”

Brienne couldn’t speak. Her emotions were too overwhelming. They flowed to Jaime, and he approached tenderly handing her the sword.

“They say the best swords have names. Do me the honor of calling this one Oathkeeper in remembrance of the promise we made together.”

“Thank you, Ser Jaime. I will not fail you.” Brienne felt the parting as an almost physical severing. She clung to Oathkeeper’s hilt as she walked away and whenever she felt lonely during the journey. It did help.

The brace of Lannister soldiers joining Brienne and Sansa to the Vale kept the journey uneventful. Sansa remained dazed by the death of her mother. In a few short years, she’d lost her father and mother, older brother, and most likely her younger sister. Brienne could only hope that Lady Arryn would provide a measure of happiness for the young woman’s future. At the very least, the Vale should be able to seal itself off from any conflict. Sansa would be safe, for whatever that meant in these troubled times.

Lady’s Arryn’s welcome was not exactly warm, but Brienne excused that from grief over her sister. The young lord of the Vale looked and acted well beneath his years. Sansa’s maturity would be a good influence on him, Brienne felt.

Lady Arryn offered Brienne hospitality for a week, and she accepted. It would give her time to see how Sansa was treated here. She was also rather curious about the Vale. Its isolation made it quite different from her home in the Stormlands and what she'd seen of the Reach and Riverlands, whose customs absorbed much from those nearby. The mountains surrounding the Vale kept most visitors away, leading to an insular clannish community that had quite a bit of Andal culture remaining.

_What have you done?!_

Brienne woke from a sound sleep in the middle of the night. She listened carefully but knew she was alone. She’d grown familiar with that voice over the past month. Her soulmate was in a mix of rage and blind panic. She’d not let him face it alone. As soon as she could ready a horse, she’d be off.

 

“What have you done?!” Jaime yelled at Cersei. She'd awakened him in the middle of the night, blood all over her sleeping shift, begging for help. She brought him to Lord Tywin’s rooms where he found their father’s body in bed with a dagger through his chest.

Cersei stumbled with an explanation. “He said I must marry again. He wanted me to wed Willas Tyrell!” She wrinkled her lip in disgust, then smoothly changed expression and stroked Jaime’s chest. “I could never be happy with him. Never with anyone but you.”

Jaime, so used to accepting his twin’s explanations, felt an unfamiliar skepticism. Perhaps he could understand attacking Tywin in the heat of the moment after such an announcement, but this seemed far more premeditated. “You slipped into his chamber in the middle of the night?”

Cersei grew more frantic. “I’m not strong like you; I couldn’t let him see it coming. Help me, please. We must dispose of the body. We can say he returned to Casterly Rock and disappeared, probably beset by bandits. I’ll have Joffrey name you Hand. With me as Queen Regent, we can rule this realm together in all but name.”

Jaime could sense Cersei’s desperation, but also her falseness. He’d overlooked it before. She flattered him, and he enjoyed it, so there had been no reason to protest. Here, however, she’d done something irrevocable, slain the lion of House Lannister, without once considering the consequences.

“No, Cersei. He’s our father. We can’t dishonor his remains. He should lie in state in the sept of Baelor. The gods-”

“Oh, what of the gods? What have they ever done for us? Fuck the gods. But fine, if you don’t want to dismember him, we can push him down the privy chute. By the time anyone finds his body, it will be unidentifiable.”

Jaime had not strapped on a sword belt when his sister came for him, so he used the only weapons he had available: his bare hands. He wrapped them around Cersei’s throat and squeezed, cutting off the insane, hateful words.

 _I’m coming, Jaime,_ he heard. Brienne’s loving voice brought him back to his right mind and kept him from becoming a kin-slayer. He released Cersei, and she slumped to the ground barely conscious.

Brienne arrived in King’s Landing after some hard days of travel. She found Lord Tywin resting in state with Jaime newly appointed as Hand of the King. The Queen regent was in seclusion due to “grief.” Jaime explained the real circumstances behind it all. Brienne held him until he could talk about it out loud.

“Brienne, I have a confession to make. Once I was able to take in what had happened, I became hopeful about our future. I drafted an order releasing me from the King’s Guard so that I could better serve as Hand. I imagined that you and I could marry and live as the Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock.

“I put the order before Joffrey and helped him make his little mark. That’s when I realized… I can’t leave King’s Landing, not even to be with you. Joffrey is my responsibility now. Perhaps he always was, or should have been. I did a piss poor job of protecting the king, at least from certain forms of abuse. I can only hope that’s he’s still young enough that I can undo the damage his mother and grandfather caused him.”

“He needs a father,” Brienne agreed.

“And a mother,” Jaime added, looking into her pure blue eyes. “We can still marry. You’d just be taking on more than you expected.”

“I’m nothing like his mother,” she demurred.

“Yes, and that’s to the good. You’re protective and loving, but you won’t pretend that he can do no wrong. At least that’s how you treat me. I think he and I will both be the better for it.”

Jaime felt the resolution and pleasure she tried to hide well before she was bold enough to agree in a shaky voice.

 

Cersei never left Casterly Rock after she was escorted there under guard to become the Lady of the Rock by name, but a prisoner in practice. She occasionally sent ravens back and forth to some remaining friends in the capital. When she learned that Joffrey now called Jaime’s wife ‘mother’ (or sometimes ‘Ser mama’) she destroyed most of the furnishings in her room.

Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen met on the island of Dragonstone. They felt an instant bond, and soon discovered that they had shared thoughts all their lives even though they were separated by hundreds of miles of land and sea. They joined their forces to defeat the undead threat in the far North. Jon begged her to allow the North to recover before turning her ambitions south. They married, and she soon found herself with child, much to her surprise.

Emissaries from King’s Landing arrived in Winterfell with the proposal that they unite the realms without further conflict. King Joffrey would agree to marry their first born daughter. Daenerys wanted to reclaim her birthright and sit the throne herself. She had seen enough death and suffering, however, in Astapor, Yunkai, the Great Grass Sea, Meereen, and especially beyond the Wall. This was a battle of her pride against the lessons she’d learned about the futility of war. She signed the betrothal papers and allowed herself to count it as a victory.

Other than their adopted son Joffrey, who grew to be a fair and just king, Brienne and Jaime had four other children, all tall, fair, and intelligent (if stubborn). Their parents always knew what to say when one of the children would approach them about strange foreign thoughts in their mind. “Having a soulmate isn’t always easy. In fact, it’s the adventure of a lifetime. The good news is, it never ends.”

 


End file.
